


Let Go

by violasarecool



Series: What Can 8 Grey Wardens Do? [18]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Gen, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violasarecool/pseuds/violasarecool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>quentin goes to speak with the prisoner in the dungeon in vigil's keep, bringing along another warden, talia cousland. when they discover their prisoner is none other than nathaniel howe, talia find herself in a position to either help or condemn the son of the man who betrayed her family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Go

"Hey, Talia, would you mind coming with me for a moment?" Talia glanced up from where she sat sharpening her sword, and saw the Warden-Commander, Quentin, standing a few feet away. "I'm going to speak with a prisoner, so I wouldn't mind an extra point of view," he added.

"Of course, ser," she said, sheathing her sword before standing up.

"You don't need to call me ser," Quentin said, giving her an amused look.

"Ok," she said.

They walked towards a building by the entrance to the keep; a guard stood just outside waiting for them. She nodded at Quentin as they approached; "Warden-Commander, ser," she said, opening the door for them. "I've told the Seneschal you're to speak with him. He'll want to know what you decide to do with this man."

"Thank you," Quentin said, and they descended the steps into the dungeon. "He was found stealing some heirlooms from around the keep," he explained. "The guards have already tried to find out what he was doing here, but apparently he refused to say anything. So I thought I should try speaking to him."

As they walked towards the cell at the end of the hall, the figure sitting behind bars stirred, raising his head. Talia stared at him, recognition dawning; the low brows, the bent nose, that bitter twist of mouth: "You're a Howe," she said, and he looked at her, frowning. "Nathaniel Howe."

"You know this man?" Quentin asked.

"Somewhat." She looked the man over once more, but he didn't say anything, just watched her. "May I speak with him? Alone?"

Quentin glanced at Nathaniel, then back to her. "I suppose it won't hurt. I'll wait outside, you can find me when you're done. Just... be careful."

She nodded brusquely. As their footsteps faded away, and the door slammed shut, the man stood up, and walked closer to stand directly behind the bars, arms crossed. "Had I known there was a _Cousland_ here, I might have..." He paused, then shook his head. "No."

Talia gave him a sweeping look, taking in his haggard appearance, the deep bags under his eyes. _He's lost everything,_ she realized, the thought creeping in like a shiver. "I'm sorry about your Father," she said.

He gave her a wary look. "Your commander killed him."

"Yes," she said. There was no point in denying that; she'd heard the stories herself. "After your father had my family killed."

"So my whole family must suffer?" Nathaniel drew himself up, eyes narrowed. "My father served the Hero of River Dane and fought against the Orlesians! Is all of that to be forgotten?"

Talia pursed her lips, unsure of what to say.

"I thought so," Nathaniel said, turning away. They stood in silence for a moment, their breathing loud in the still air of the dungeon. Then, Nathaniel turned slightly, still not quite facing her. "I came here... I thought I was going to try to kill the _Hero_ of Ferelden. To lay a trap for the man who killed my father. But when I got here... I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my family's things." He raised his head, gave her a tired look. "It's all I have left."

Talia looked away after a moment, mind racing. She was inclined to believe him; he'd been caught with an armful of Howe heirlooms, the commander had said. She remembered her father telling her about Arl Rendon's son, and his skill with a bow and arrow. If Nathaniel had intended to follow through on his plan to kill the commander, surely he would have been caught much closer to his target—if not after having succeeded. She met his gaze, heart thudding in her chest. "If I ask the Warden-Commander to let you go, what will you do?"

"Let me go?" Nathaniel frowned at her, confusion in his eyes. "I don't know... I'll probably come back here. You might not catch me this time."

"You're not making a good case for yourself," she said dryly.

"Would you like me to lie?" he asked.

She gave him a searching look, one he returned defiantly. After a moment, she shook her head. "I'll be back."

"Go ahead, take your time," Nathaniel said, seating himself against the wall, his glare following her as she walked back down the hall and up the stairs to where Quentin and the soldier waited outside, now joined by Seneschal Varel.

"You're done?" Quentin said, as she closed the door behind her.

"One moment," she said, holding up a hand. "The man you've captured is Nathaniel Howe, Arl Rendon Howe's son. Their family held this arling before it was given to the Wardens."

Quentin raised his eyebrows. "Oh. I've met him. Arl Howe, that is. Well, we, uh... _I,_ killed him, while rescuing Queen Anora."

"So I've heard." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Nathaniel Howe isn't a threat. I'd like to recommend he be given his family's things and released."

"Oh?" Quentin looked at her curiously.

"With respect," Seneschal Varel said, "what makes you think this man isn't a threat? It took four Grey Wardens to capture him; if he comes back, who knows what might happen?"

"Our families have a... history," Talia said. "Rendon Howe was a traitor, yes, but his family doesn't deserve to be punished for his wrongdoings. The things this man 'stole' would have been his in the first place if Rendon hadn't betrayed us."

Quentin nodded slowly. "That seems reasonable. If you believe he's not a threat, I'm willing to trust your judgement."

"Thank you."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Commander," Seneschal Varel said, giving Talia a disapproving look.

Quentin turned to the guard. "You have the things he was found with?"

"They're locked up in the dungeon, ser."

"Release him, give him his things, and escort him out."

"Yes, ser."

The guard descended the steps back into the dungeon, leaving the door open. After a moment or two, they heard the muffled sound of the guard talking. Then: _"What?"_ Nathaniel's exclamation echoed out into the open air, and Quentin glanced at Talia, who continued to watch the door. A few moments later, the guard appeared, followed by Nathaniel. He glanced between Quentin and Talia, his gaze settling on her as he slowed to a stop.

Talia gave him a polite smile, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Keep moving," the guard said, and Nathaniel turned to glare at the guard before starting walking again.

Talia watched as they made their way toward the main gate.

"Thanks for your help," Quentin said, "I appreciate your input."

"No problem," she said absently. The guard stopped just before the gate, and Nathaniel gave the keep one last look before stalking away.

In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure she'd made the right choice. What if he _did_ come back, and her actions put the commander in danger?

Then, she thought back to Nathaniel sitting in that dirty cell, jailed for trying to reclaim what was once his. No, she thought, that wasn't fair. He didn't deserve to be jailed for taking back his family's heirlooms, and they couldn't keep him _just in case_ he decided to kill someone. This was the right decision, and if something went wrong because of it, she'd take the blame.

Who knew, maybe some good would come of it.

* * *

She didn't see him again until a few days later as they left Amaranthine city, Quentin leading a group consisting of her, Alistair, Oghren, and Zevran.

"Wait." Nathaniel's voice echoed down the alley they were passing through, and Quentin turned, met Nathaniel's gaze. Behind him, the others slowed to a stop, watching Nathaniel warily. "I want to talk to you."

"Ok," Quentin said.

"You set me free," Nathaniel said, "just let me go, despite what I said," he looked at Talia, "or might do. I want to know why."

"Well, it was mostly Talia's decision," Quentin said. "She explained the situation, and I agreed to her request to let you go."

Nathaniel turned to her. "Why."

"You're right," Talia said, and he gave her a curious look. "Punishing your whole family for your father's mistake isn't isn't right, not _just._ You deserve better. I'm sorry."

"Then... thank you, I suppose." He looked away, brow creased. "Take me with you," he said, looking back at Quentin. "Make me a Grey Warden."

"Wait, what?" Alistair said.

"You heard me," Nathaniel said.

Oghren crossed his arms. "Watch out, this one might turn out to be another Zevran. He already tried to kill you once."

"I am standing right here," Zevran said, raising an eyebrow at Oghren.

"Just sayin'."

"Zevran turned out to be a good friend," Quentin said, and Zevran smiled.

"Gracias."

"Though not a Warden," he said, turning back to Nathaniel. "Not that he couldn't have. But becoming a Warden is a serious commitment. It can be... difficult. Dangerous."

Nathaniel laughed, the sound somewhat hollow, joyless. "I fully expected to die in that dungeon, maybe I even wanted to. But you let me go. Make me a Grey Warden," he insisted, "let me try. Please."

Quentin glanced at Zevran, who shrugged. Quentin couldn't help drawing the connection between Nathaniel's plea and Zevran's own words nearly a year ago. A man with little to live for—something they had in common with many Warden recruits, from the stories he'd heard Fox tell. Maybe joining the Wardens would help Nathaniel. And besides, hadn't Talia already essentially vouched for him?

"So, what, you think this will redeem your name?" Alistair asked. Quentin gave him a disapproving look. "What? I'm just asking, why else does this man who, let me remind you, just tried to _kill_ you, want to become a _Warden_ , of all things?"

"I don't know about that," Nathaniel said, "maybe that's not even important. Maybe it's more important that I do my part to face the darkspawn. Maybe that's what my father should have done." He looked at Talia, his mouth a tight line of apology.

"I think that's commendable," she said softly.

"Alright," Quentin said. "We'll see how you do with the Joining."

Nathaniel nodded, jaw set. "Nothing to fear."


End file.
